


Request

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3178592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Freed has to blink before he can process the sound of his name. It sounds flat, so calm as to be almost bored, which under the circumstances would be kind of insulting if Laxus weren’t doing such a good job of distracting him." Laxus makes a request and Freed gives in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Request

“Freed.”

Freed has to blink before he can process the sound of his name. It sounds flat, so calm as to be almost bored, which under the circumstances would be kind of insulting if Laxus weren’t doing such a good job of distracting him. He has Freed’s jacket off already, is tugging the buttons of his shirt free with the same impatient speed of a child unwrapping their favorite present, and Freed hasn’t been able to look up at the other’s face for several minutes, since he started breathing hard and Laxus’s eyes took on the dark heat-wave shimmer they get at times like this.

He doesn’t look up now, either. “Yes?” Laxus drags Freed’s shirt loose of the edge of his pants, unfastens the last of the buttons so he can push it off the other’s shoulders. The texture of his fingertips floods heat into the other’s blood, sends him shivering like he’s freezing in the heat of Laxus’s bedroom. “Is there--” One hand dips over his shoulder, slides down the line of his back, and Freed arches in and gasps as his thought disintegrates. “ _Ah_. Sh...should I move?” He considers the dark of the fabric in front of his eyes, realizes Laxus is actually still entirely dressed. “Sorry, let me--”

“No.” Laxus doesn’t sound angry, but the rumble of his voice is enough to entirely freeze Freed’s hand as he reaches for the other’s coat. “That’s fine.” His hand slides lower, curls around Freed’s hip to hold him steady. “I want to suck you off.”

He makes it sound perfectly ordinary, more a statement than a request. For a moment Freed doesn’t process the words, is left staring at the curl of golden hair against Laxus’s forehead and waiting for understanding to come. Then the fingers against his pants work the front open, and Laxus starts to strip those off too, and Freed takes a sudden choked inhale as if to make up for the breath he missed in shock.

“ _What_?” He reaches out to grab at Laxus’s shoulder, loses his nerve at the last moment, and when Laxus tugs at his hip he goes falling backwards, into the wide expanse of the other’s mattress. It’s oversized and oversoft, usually so immersive Freed can lose himself and forget his nerves in the tangle of the sheets, but right now he doesn’t have time for that, he’s trying to push himself up on his elbows while Laxus gets his pants off and comes back up, trailing his fingers up over Freed’s bare legs as he goes.

“I want to suck you off,” Laxus says again, still steady, like maybe Freed really just didn’t hear him the first time. His fingertips catch under the edge of Freed’s boxers, the last thing left on him, and Freed is pretty sure he’s blushing all across his entire body but Laxus doesn’t look so much as fazed. “You always do for me.”

Freed’s whole body feels like it’s on fire. At least he’s already infinitely self-conscious, so when Laxus tugs the last of his clothes off there’s none left over to be shy about how all-over flushed he is.

“That’s--” he starts, but Laxus isn’t waiting to hear him out, he’s ducking his head and kissing the sharp edge of Freed’s hip instead. Freed gasps, falls back flat across the sheets as his whole body tries to gravitate up to be closer to the blond, and Laxus closes his hand at the other’s thigh and shoves him back down like it’s no effort at all.

“And you always get like this,” Laxus is going on, shifting his hand so his fingers fit against the edges of Freed’s body like they belong there. “I wanna know what you’ll do.”

“You did,” Freed points out without looking down. He doesn’t  _dare_  look, is sure from the heat of Laxus’s breathing that the blond is inches away from his skin and is absolutely certain he’ll lose any coherency he has left if he actually sees that proximity. “The first time we...remember?”

“Nah.” There’s a gust of warm breath against Freed’s leg, fingers pushing at his knee to slide his legs apart. Freed can  _feel_  the rush of blood to his cock making him twitch reflexively, has to shut his eyes and lift an arm to cover the crimson at his face, but Laxus just keeps talking as he eases the other’s legs wider. “I barely touched you, that doesn’t count.”

“Oh.” Freed sounds strangled, can hear the edge of hysteria in his voice. “Does it not?”

“Nope.” There’s another slide of friction, lips dragging against the inside of Freed’s thigh, and he responds without thinking, whimpers an exhale and spread his legs wider. Laxus chuckles against his skin, fits his shoulders into the space between Freed’s knees, and Freed just has a moment for the pointless observation that Laxus’s shirt is unreasonably soft before there’s movement against his cock, wet and warm and slick with moisture. There’s a sound, a gasp so high it should be out of normal human range, and it’s only when Freed feels the whine in his throat that he realizes it’s his own voice hitting that level.

Laxus laughs again. Freed can feel the amusement shuddering through the other’s shoulders and down over his tongue, and Laxus is tightening his lips, sucking down over hyper-sensitive skin until the burst of heat and friction is too much, is drawing Freed’s body taut more with pain than pleasure.

He doesn’t mean to whimper. It comes out of his throat all on its own, a sharp choke of audible pain, and Laxus pulls away, fast and quick so Freed collapses flat and trembling to the bed as all the tension in him evaporates into a paradoxical burn of desire for more again. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s fine,” Freed says, his eyes still shut against the inside of his arm. “I’m fine.”

He should have known he wouldn’t get away with it. The hand at his hip lets go, comes up to close on his wrist instead, and when Laxus drags his arm away Freed blinks up into the other’s stare.

“What.” It’s flat, not angry, but Freed still tries to look away, turn his head to hide behind his hair in spite of the futility of the attempt.

“Stop it.” Laxus is starting to frown in Freed’s periphery, the gold of his brows drawing low over his eyes. “Look at me.” And Freed can’t refuse, has to look up more certainly than if Laxus were holding his chin in place. He looks up, cringing in advance, and Laxus is staring at him, forehead creased. “What’s wrong?”

“It was too much,” Freed says, the words falling from his mouth without any consideration. “Too much sensation too quickly.”

Laxus nods, quick and sharp. “Yeah, okay.” Then he’s moving away, like this is all the conversation that needs to be had, and Freed is left blinking up at the absence left by his motion.

“Wait--” and he’s pushing up on his elbow but Laxus is ducking already, breathing out against Freed’s cock with a gust of heat that stalls the other’s breathing. Laxus dips his head lower, takes Freed past his lips again, slower this time but still more than enough to burn heat all through Freed’s blood, and he groans instead of speaking, reaches out to grab at Laxus’s hair more to steady himself than to control the other’s movements. Laxus’s mouth is open a little more, now, the pressure of his lips less unbearably intense, and he’s going slower, too, his motions awkward but deliberately gentle with care. This is all wrong, Freed feels distantly, Laxus bowed over him is the inverse of the way things should be, but his heart is pounding faster in time with the motion of Laxus’s mouth and he can’t form the reason to persuade himself why they should stop.

Laxus looks up, his expression unreadable, but whatever he sees in Freed’s face is apparently more than clear enough. His thumb fits in against Freed’s hip, presses hard to hold the other in place, and then he’s tensing his mouth, pursing his lips slightly like he’s thinking about kissing, and the extra pressure brings more heat in its wake, takes half-control over Freed’s body until he can’t stop the trembling in his hands. His fingers are jerking tighter, forming into a fist until he can force his hold to relax, but Laxus doesn’t so much as hesitate at the occasional pull against his hair. He’s moving faster, Freed realizes on some distant level, bracing Freed steady with both hands, now, as he falls into a rhythm of motion. Freed is starting to catch his breath, the first shock of contact fading into steadily rising pleasure, and then Laxus glances back up and catches Freed’s gaze. There’s still nothing Freed can piece out from his eyes, just shadows and incoherent heat, and then there’s pressure, heat and wet and the slick slide of the blond’s tongue, and Freed doesn’t even realize he’s falling back until his shoulders hit the bed.

Freed can feel his self-control turning to dust as it slides past his desperate grip. Laxus’s hair is soft against his palm and Laxus’s hands against him are steady and hot like the other is running a few degrees hotter than Freed is. He’d believe it as truth, just from the radiation of the other’s touch and the impossible heat of his mouth, the way the warmth is spreading out into Freed’s hips and collecting low in his stomach as if his body is coming to life to match and meet Laxus’s movements. His legs are starting to shake, attempting to push his body up closer against the unshifting weight of Laxus’s hold, his back arching on its own accord off the bed like he’s trying to break free of gravity. Laxus isn’t slowing, isn’t shifting; he seems oblivious to the involuntary motions of the other’s body, except that he’s licking a little harder, moving a little faster, and Freed can’t breathe, all the aching tension in his body is collecting in his shoulders and along the curve of his back, and he can taste the rising panic at the back of tongue, the nervous fright that Laxus might  _stop_  what he’s doing. But he doesn’t, he’s moving steady and smooth like all his concentration is focused precisely on what he’s doing, and Freed has a brief choking moment of anxiety in the last possible heartbeat before all of him goes calm and relaxed in the comfort on inevitable pleasure. He falls back to the bed, his hands uncurling from their desperate fists of Laxus’s hair and Laxus’s sheets, and Laxus glances up, makes some sound that might be a question, and Freed shudders apart into tingling sensation. He can’t feel his fingertips, he’s not sure he’s breathing, and it doesn’t matter, nothing matters at all but the heat washing out into him from the friction of Laxus’s mouth.

He’s still shaking slightly when Laxus pulls away, the adrenaline in his blood vibrating through his limbs while the blond moves in closer to lean in over Freed. The shadow of his shoulders falls across Freed’s face, persuades him to open his eyes; the minimal effort is worth it for the way Laxus is looking at him, his usual unconscious scowl faded into softness and his eyes lingering at Freed’s face instead of looking through him as Freed is used to.

“You okay?” he asks. The words come out flat, absent any emotional context, but his eyes are sliding down to consider Freed’s mouth, his head tipping very slightly to the side like he’s contemplating fitting his lips against the other’s.

Freed takes a breath. His heartbeat is slowing, all the tension of desire easing into the heavy relaxation of satisfaction, and the pleasure makes him daring, brings his tingling fingers up to the back of Laxus’s neck without his usual hesitation. Laxus leans down immediately, drawn down by the minimal weight of Freed’s fingers, and Freed shuts his eyes and lets the electricity of contact spark through his unresisting body.

He’s never been able to refuse Laxus’s requests.


End file.
